Secrecy clouds picture of sexual assault

Report says college rape victims often face hurdles with school officials.

By Melissa Ludwig

Published 10:02 pm, Monday, December 14, 2009

When Marisa was raped during her freshman year at Trinity University by a fellow student at an off-campus house, she hesitated before telling university officials. Dean of Students David Tuttle, then a stranger, was about the last person on earth she wanted to confide in.

But a friend made her do it, and her disclosure led to a conduct hearing in which the student was found responsible and suspended from campus. He withdrew from school, allowing Marisa to reclaim her life at Trinity.

It is the general policy of the San Antonio Express-News to not identify sexual assault victims. In this case, Marisa agreed to be identified by her first name.

Boy carted off in ambulance after S.A. shooting as relatives scream in anguishSan Antonio Express-News

"I felt validated by it, and I felt like I received justice," Marisa, now a senior at Trinity, said of the outcome. "I feel like that is such a rare feeling in sexual assault cases."

Statistics attest to that rarity.

According to a report released this month by the Center for Public Integrity, a nonprofit investigative journalism organization based in Washington, D.C., students often encounter a "depressing litany of barriers" to justice, with university officials more interested in keeping things quiet than in helping victims.

The report also cited spotty reporting of sexual assault statistics, rendering public data almost meaningless.

"What we found overall is very troubling," said Bill Buzenberg, the center's director. "It exposed a heavy blanket of secrecy around sexual assault."

In a nine-month investigation, the Center interviewed 48 experts on the college disciplinary process, reviewed 10 years worth of complaints filed with the U.S. Education Department, surveyed 152 crisis services programs and clinics, and interviewed 33 women who reported being sexually assaulted by other students.

In cases in which students did not file a criminal case or local law enforcement declined to prosecute, victims sought justice through university judicial proceedings.

Those included off-the-record negotiations with administrators and closed hearings in which victims were sworn to secrecy, the report found. Rarely did they end in substantial punishment for the accused.

More Information

Locally, campus officials agreed with many of the report's findings. But they rebutted the notion that university officials care more about keeping things hush-hush than about the welfare of victims.

"These are really, really, really hard cases," said Gage Paine, vice president for students affairs at the University of Texas at San Antonio. "In my experience over the years, almost always there are two people in the room and nobody else. It is one person's version versus the other person's version. One or the other or both have been drinking, recollections are not clear, and it is really hard to find truth in those situations. I have yet to see a case where everybody walked out satisfied."

Spotty statistics

To look at the numbers, it would appear that rapes almost never happen at local colleges.

Five San Antonio universities with a combined enrollment of more than 45,000 reported just 18 sexual assaults in the past three years, according to data posted under the Clery Act, a law requiring universities to report crime statistics on campus.

But experts say underreporting and differing interpretations of the law result in numbers that can't be trusted.

UTSA reported four sexual assaults in the past three years. But Elizabeth StanczakÖ, UTSA's director of counseling and health services, said she handles between two and six cases per month.

Technically, Stanczak is exempt from reporting because she is a licensed counselor. But she said she forwards every case to UTSA police, sharing what information she legally can, and Chief Dan Pena says his agency reports qualifying cases.

But the Clery Act covers only assaults that occur in campus housing or in public places on or near campus. At UTSA, the bulk of students live in private apartment complexes surrounding the university. About 3,700 of the university's 29,000 students live on campus.

Texas State University in San Marcos reported nine sexual assaults in 2008, the highest of the six universities. University police said seven of the cases were linked to one man caught fondling random women and pulling down their pants.

"As a parent of college-aged children, I get my own sense of the environment by visiting," Sisoian said. "I have never heard anyone talk about Clery who doesn't work in higher education."

Parents may be more interested in hearing how university officials react to reports of sexual assault, Sisoian said, and whether or not the university educates students about date rape and other forms of sexual assault.

Officials at most local universities say they do address prevention, typically during freshman orientation, using guest speakers or skits.

When a student reports a sexual assault, officials say they react with compassion.

The first step is directing students to police to file a report, then to the hospital for a rape kit, an exam that preserves physical evidence. The student is offered a victim's advocate, which could be a university staff member, a parent or a trained professional from the Rape Crisis Center. At some point, the university lays out options for seeking justice. Some students choose to press criminal charges, others request a university hearing. Some do neither.

Empowering the victims to make their own decisions is paramount, officials and counselors said.

At times, "we have had to fight the perception that (university officials) want to sweep things under the rug and we don't support victims," Trinity's Tuttle said. "But we very much take a stand that we don't push a complaint forward unless the (victim) wants to push it forward."

Closed doors

Despite good intentions, many victims walk away from the university judicial process feeling betrayed, according to the Center report. It cited examples of what some deem bad university practices: gag orders, mediations and secret hearings.

When Mallory Shear-Heyman was raped in a campus dorm at Bucknell University in Pennsylvania, she claims university officials pushed her toward mediation, a confidential negotiation between victim and attacker, facilitated by university officials.

With no outside advocate to help weigh the options, Shear-Heyman agreed.

The student ended up apologizing, but because Shear-Heyman had signed a confidentiality waiver, she could not use the confession to pursue a criminal case.

"Generally speaking, mediation was a horrible experience, one in which I was misled and given different answers," said Shear-Heyman. "It left me five years later unable to pursue any sort of justice."

Experts call mediation in rape cases a bad idea because it carries no threat of punishment. And the Education Department prohibits schools from issuing gag orders.

Locally, university officials say they do not issue gag orders. Trinity has done mediations in the past, but Tuttle said he is "not a fan."

Still, secrecy prevails because disciplinary hearings are generally closed to the public and documents requested under open records laws would either be withheld or heavily redacted. Private schools are not subject to open records laws.

According to victim advocates, the secrecy makes it too easy for the university to act in its own interests.

"Who is the university advocating for, the victim or the perpetrator? They have them both on the same campus," said Lynn Blanco, president of the Rape Crisis Center. "If you have closed doors, you don't have that check and balance system."

Local officials say federal privacy laws bar them from holding public student conduct hearings, but at some schools parties can request an open hearing or invite supporters and witnesses.

And yes, officials must often strike a neutral pose, affording the accused the benefit of the doubt.

That's why it's crucial to involve an advocate for the victim, Blanco said, someone whose role is to believe the victim and help them weigh options.

But even that doesn't guarantee a good outcome, Tuttle said.

"For the victims, they just want their dignity back and want the other person to know what they did was wrong. The university system is set up for that to happen," Tuttle said. "But if the (accused) is not found responsible, it can be a disaster."

A slap on the wrist

In Marisa's case, she said the rape occurred in 2007 at an off-campus party, where she was keeping an eye on an intoxicated friend. She was alone at some point, and a soccer player and fraternity member she knew pushed her into a small room.

The next day, Marisa went to the hospital for a rape kit and was questioned by two police officers. The Bexar County district attorney's office asked her to prosecute.

"I guess I am really naive or really optimistic about people, but I wanted to give him the chance to be a better person ..... and not have to go his whole life and have to register as a sex offender," Marisa said.

But she did pursue a university hearing. Until then, the harshest punishment meted out in recent memory was a one-semester suspension. She made it clear that wasn't good enough.

"I feel like a one (semester) suspension for rape is a slap on the wrist, like 'Don't get caught next time,'." Marisa said. "I have wanted to go to Trinity since I was in junior high. The place I had been looking forward to my whole life ..... came crashing down at the end of my first year."

At Trinity, students are allowed to invite one supporter, typically a parent or attorney, to the hearing. A panel of two professors and one student render a verdict.

In Marisa's case, they found the student responsible and issued a two-year suspension.

Rather than risk an appeal, Tuttle allowed him to withdraw from Trinity with the caveat that Tuttle would have to reveal the student's disciplinary record if asked. No one ever asked.

"That's kind of disappointing," Marisa said. But Overall, pursuing the hearing was worth the risk, Marisa said. Marisa said of the process and outcome: "I was very proud that I had set the bar higher for girls in the future."